The Struggle for Peace
by crazytuts
Summary: Harry meets his final year at Hogwarts, but not before being attacked by a Death Eater and stealing bizarre items near Diagon Alley. Follow Harry's eccentric adventures as he struggles for peace by defeating Voldemort.
1. Mariah

The Struggle For Peace

Chapter 1

The houses of Privet Drive were peaceful as some people relaxed in their patios and others washed their cars, but there was one house under the vibrant sun that was not complacent. The neighbors could say that the residents of Number Four Privet Drive were as normal as any other family, but as soon as the delinquent nephew made an entry, the house wreaked havoc with loud cracks, screeching, screams, and some people even swore that they saw owls flying in and out of the bedroom window upstairs.

Harry thought he had heard and seen it all, but that day, his Uncle brought up another dilemma. He longed to know when Harry would leave. Unable to get a straight answer out of him while he lay in his room, Uncle Vernon resorted to thrash and heave all of Harry's possessions down the stairs. He had been half a second away from igniting his wand, but then he realized he still wasn't of age yet and couldn't use it willingly.

"GET OUT!" Uncle Vernon's furious voice echoed down the stairs as Harry frantically gathered his things from the bottom of the staircase. Just when he brushed his hand against his old Transfiguration book, another one came flying, zoomed past his head, and crashed into his Uncle's ancient grandfather clock. The thick glass burst into tiny pieces and clattered onto the floor, blanketing the bulk of Harry's clothes. Aunt Petunia, who was standing in front of the couch, shrieked in fright and goggled at Harry with those small but lethal eyes.

"Now look what you've done!" Uncle Vernon stormed down the stairs, the bulk of his stomach wobbling up and down.

"And that's my fault!" Harry was astounded at this blame put upon him. Uncle Vernon closed in on him and glared for a second. Suddenly, a hand flew through the air and came in contact with Harry's forearm. He dropped the book in his hand. It was more the emotional pang, not physical, that dominated Harry's feelings. His uncle had never hit him. Before he raged even more, he turned around.

"FINE! I WILL LEAVE!" Harry bellowed at the top of his lungs, and without bothering to pick up anything else, he marched straight to the door, stepped outside, and banged it shut.

Harry levitated his head to look up at the sun, which only added to his existing headache. Unlike the interior of his uncle's house, it was peaceful outside, with a car or two strolling down the street every minute or two. He made his way across the street into Wisteria Walk. Luckily, Dudley was out somewhere again, and Harry hoped he wouldn't run into him.

He didn't think he could survive another day at Privet Drive. The Dursleys had driven him to madness more this summer than any other. Some how they had seemed to forget the little threat the members of the Order of the Phoenix had made if Harry was treated unfairly. As soon as Dumbledore had informed them that Harry would leave when he turned seventeen, they had been ready for their Christmas in July.

Harry approached his usual thinking and cooling down place: the playground. To think that he wouldn't be allowed outside after his birthday was torture. Apparently, Voldemort would automatically know where Harry would be and would come to kidnap him. He desperately hoped that someone would come rescue him before that.

Harry wasn't paying attention as he went to sit on the swing. His mind was in too many different places. As he lowered himself to the swing, he finally realized that someone was already sitting on it.

Startled, Harry retreated immediately after the person gave an oh! of surprise. It was a girl, no older than fourteen or fifteen who was swinging slowly, the edge of her blue knee-length skirt fluttering against the wind.

"Oh, er-I'm sorry." Harry stuttered as he backed up even some more.

The girl chuckled, a kind of childish laugh, and revealed her cute dimples. Harry couldn't help but stare at her hair. It was the most violent red that went past her slouched shoulders, shining more against the sun's rays. It reminded him of her mother. People had always sad that she had the most beautiful red hair and he had seen it once in Dumbledore's Pensieve. He felt like he was standing next to a fluorescent red light bulb.

"It's alright. Calm down." She held up a hand to cool his reaction, "Actually, I'm glad I ran into someone. It was getting so boring sitting her all day. What's your name?"

"Harry." He replied abruptly, leaving the Potter out of his answer and quickly reaching his hair so he could cover his scar.

"I'm Mariah. It's a pleasure." She shook hands with Harry like a businesswoman, "Sit down."

Awkwardly, Harry did so. He kept on glancing at her when she looked up at the sky. There was something different about her but he couldn't put his hand on it. Something about her eyes amazed him, as if they were a thousand miles away. They almost looked gloomy.

"So, what brings you here anyway?"

"My damn Uncle." Harry blurted, "Sorry."

She smiled, "It's quite alright. Did he yell at you and tell you to leave the house?"

"More or less." Harry nodded, amazed at how accurate her prediction was, "I live there for the summers but since the upcoming year is going to be the last one, he wants me out earlier than usual." Mariah stopped swinging and stomped her foot to the ground.

"That's terrible."

"Tell me about it."

"So, where do you go to school?"

"St.Brutus's." Harry said, deciding not to spell out the rest of the title mainly because he didn't remember it.

"Hmm…I've never heard of it, it must be good since you look a smartie."

Bemused, Harry shook his head, "Nah, I'm not. One of my friends is though. She gets top grades for everything."

Mariah sighed, "I wish I did. The day I get a hundred percent on something will be the day pigs start flying."

Harry laughed. He liked that this girl had a sense of humor. He already hoped he would see her again. At least there would be some company for him.

"You live around here?"

"No, actually I live in Bristol. I'm just staying at my brother's house for a few days."

"Oh, I see." She sensed the disappointment in his voice and said, "Maybe we can meet here tomorrow."

"That sounds good, especially since it's my birthday then."

"Really!" Mariah exclaimed, her hair bouncing off her shoulders, "That's great! I'll be sure to bring something."

"Oh no, you don't have to do that-"

"Hush! I'd be honored! Gosh it's been really lonely these days around here."

"At least it's not months for you." Harry grumbled, and eyed his torn sneakers.

"You poor thing. Don't worry, I'll be here tomorrow right around this time."

"Great."

"Well. I should be going. My lunch is probably ready. Bye, Harry. See you."

"Bye."

…

There was nothing extraordinary about Harry's birthday in the morning at the Dursley's house. Aunt Petunia made him prepare breakfast: bacon, eggs, and the usual grapefruit for Dudley. This was something Harry hadn't done in a while.

Uncle Vernon cleared his throat after finishing breakfast, with his porky face lurking behind the morning newspaper, and said, "When are those freaks of yours coming?"

Harry knew perfectly well that he was talking to him, but he chose not to acknowledge it. He kept his head down and his attention focused on his eggs, occasionally seeing Dudley's eyes wandering over to his plate.

"Boy, I'm talking to you!"

"Huh? Oh, I didn't know. What did you say, Uncle Vernon?"

The veins were popping out of his neck already, "I asked you when those freaks are coming to take you, you foolish boy."

"I don't know, haven't heard from them." Harry said truthfully.

"Well, you better know soon or you'll end up on the streets!"

"You wouldn't dare. You're afraid of them."

"What did you say?" Uncle Vernon's eyes popped out like an ugly toad's.

"Nothing. Got to go. Wonderful breakfast." Harry scurried off his plate to the sink and sprinted up the stairs to his room. He still had a few hours left until it was time to go to the swings. He found that he was quite looking forward to it. He hadn't had communication with anyone his age unless if you counted Dudley. Hermione, Ron, and Ginny had sent him a few letters each but that wasn't the same as being together in person.

There had only been three things he'd done this summer: think, eat, and sleep. He hadn't even touched the loads of homework piled on the floor next to his window. Harry just didn't have enough mental power to continue with schoolwork knowing that he might not go back to Hogwarts this year. A part of him wanted to but another kept his conscience away from the place that reeked of Dumbledore's presence. Surely his portraits would be hung all around the castle and there would be no avoiding him. Harry felt like a failure. So far, he hadn't done anything that would further his task of defeating Voldemort. No more Horcruxes were in his possession, he hadn't learned extra magic or spells, and he hadn't done anything about Hogwarts. He knew that as soon he faced Dumbledore, he would be a failure in his eyes.

Harry was certainly getting the Daily Prophet, and everyday it announced new deaths left and right. Hopefully there had not been any that he recognized, save one, which was Ernie Prang the Knight Bus driver. Allegedly, a group of Death Eaters saw Muggles on the bus and killed Ernie (thank god Stan Shunpike was still in Azkaban). He didn't think the attacks would ever end, and now that Dumbledore was gone, they would only get worse.

Harry rested face up on his bed and stared at the ceiling, thinking of random things. Sleep penetrated his eyes as they fluttered and closed slowly.

…

Harry closed the door behind him and entered the outside world. It wasn't so sunny today because there were clouds hovering beneath it that showed signs of rain.

For some strange reason, his knees felt weak under his upper body weight as he walked heavily across the street. He guessed it was due to the inactivity for over a month. How much excitement could a person get from sitting in their room most of the summer?

He attempted to walk as normally as he could because he knew he was being followed by the members of the Order and he just didn't want to communicate with any of them.

When he looked back, Harry knew he had acted foolishly by walking outside alone on his birthday.

Harry felt something stir behind him. Harry rested his foot to the ground for a moment and turned around, expecting the noise from a cat. No one was there. Only a car zoomed past him as he inadvertently stood there.

Once again, Harry moved. He was barely minutes away from the playground when he heard the hissing sound again. Alarmed, Harry flashed out his wand and electrified his gaze. He perceived the strangest thing. In the air flew a lethal sword in midair all by itself, closing in on him second by second. Fear panged his heart as he moved his wand left and right, not knowing what or who he was facing.


	2. An Unfortunate Birthday

Chapter 2 – An Unfortunate Birthday

Harry didn't know what to do. He couldn't exactly attack a mobilized sword, even if it was coming for him. He did the only logical thing: run. His knees didn't matter now, as he stumbled past the sidewalk and ran right onto the road at the top of his speed. He dared not to look back and see a shiny sword lingering mere inches from him. What was happening? He was sure there was a culprit behind the sword, but since he was invisible, Harry couldn't attack them. Why the sword, though? Why not use a wand? Since when did wizards attack with swords?

Harry swerved right on Wisteria Walk, the opposite of where Mariah was. He didn't want her to get hurt or reveal himself.

Even in the urgency of it all, his mind craved to wonder what the Muggles would think if they saw a flying sword. Would he get suspended or expelled again?

Then, it hit him. It was his birthday. He could use his wand freely now. He came to an abrupt stop and twirled to find the sword hovering right in front of his face, barely three inches from his neck. His blood boiled right down to his feet. Harry's head felt light headed, as if he was passing away to a far away place. The sword inched closer to him until he could feel the sleek still cover on it and smell the fresh metal craving some blood. There was a strange green glow to it like a contaminated mirror. He dared not move.

Suddenly, the sword sliced his forearm. He cried out in intense pain, his skin blazing fire and scorching to no end. Before he knew it, the sword vanished into thin air, leaving Harry alone. He looked at his upper arm and winced. A large wide cut had replaced most of his arm with fresh gushing blood. He helplessly fell to the ground, suffocated by unbearable weakness. What in the world…?

Harry heard a voice behind him and he jumped, "Harry? Harry? Are you alright?"

Tonks was looking worryingly at him. She kneeled down and observed his arm, moved it slightly, but stopped as Harry cried out, "Ouch!"

"Sorry. What in the blazes of Merlin…?"

That's exactly what Harry was thinking. Why hadn't the Order showed themselves before a big lethal sword followed him around?

"We didn't know someone was following you Harry." Tonks replied, as if she'd just read his mind.

"How could you not?"

"Well, the only way we could sense something happening was if magic occurred, and since that didn't take place…"

"You didn't know I was going to be attacked." Harry finished for her. Tonks nodded.

"Come on, I have to get you out of here before something else happens." Tonks helped him up with one hand, and held her wand up with the other. His arm looked pretty bad…great, just what he needed after a month of starving himself. He eyed his hand and saw how pale he was turning. Harry just hoped he didn't faint…

"You won't. Don't worry, I'm getting you to the Burrow in five seconds. Side-Along Apparition, you know…"

"Are you taking Legilimency?" Harry asked amusingly.

"As a matter of fact, yes, from Remus. I reckoned I would need it in these times..."

"I see." Harry strived to know more about their relationship but he knew it was none of his business, and besides, she probably knew what he was thinking and she would have answered if she needed to.

"Where's…everyone else." He was finding It hard to verbalize himself all of a sudden.

"They're looking for the culprit of course. That sword wasn't flying alone. Surely someone was made invisible and sent to get you, but why they didn't kill you, I have no idea…"

"Well, it's a…good thing they didn't."

Tonks glanced at him shortly and quickened her pace until they were behind an old liquor store off of Queens Street. Tonks Disapparated and Harry felt that awkwardly disgusting feeling inside his stomach. He felt even worse this time because of his arm, thinking that would be able to make it to the Burrow.

But he did. When Harry opened his eyes, he faced a familiar sight, the Burrow. Tonks held him by his other shoulder but he shoved it away, "I can handle myself."

He walked a few feet and then collapsed onto the ground, feeling highly embarrassed. Tonks chuckled and helped him up again, leading him to the back entrance.

Mrs.Weasley was the first face Harry saw, and it wasn't a pretty one either. She shrieked with astonishment and hugged him tightly, which just added to his pain. Tears streamed down her cheeks before Harry told her to let go.

"I'm scared to ask what happened…" Mrs.Weasley kept her eyes on him, but he looked away. Wasn't anyone going to do anything about the gash on his am?

"He was followed by a Death Eater, save that they were invisible. A sword sliced him."

Mrs.Weasley screamed again, hiding her cheeks with her hands.

"Shh!"

"Uh…I don't mean to interrupt, but can we clean this up…?" He pointed to his arm.

"Oh!" Both of them exclaimed. Supposedly coming back to reality, Tonks rushed to his aid while Mrs.Weasley fetched a bucket of water and some clean cloths.

"Why can't you just sue magic to heal it?" Harry asked, as the cold and wet cloth made contact with his skin. He winced in pain and twitched his arm.

"One, because we're not experts in healing, and two, we don't have Fawkes."

"Alright." Harry said, making sure not to further the matter, and changed the subject, "Where's Ron?"

"Ron and Hermione are upstairs. God knows what they are doing…" Mrs.Weasley replied.

A few minutes later, Lupin Apparated to their side, wiping sweat off of his forehead. If it was even possible, Lupin looked worse than before. His hair was half-gray and half-brown, it was unkempt, and unusually long. Wrinkles were present all over his face. Lupin saw him looking and smiled slightly.

"Did you fin him?" Tonks asked, staring at him curiously.

Lupin shook his head, "Whoever it was, he got away. I can't BELIEVE they got to Harry. We should have been extra careful…"

"It's not our fault. How were we to know they would attack him exactly on his birthday?"

"He should have." Lupin gave him an accusing look, Didn't we tell you not to leave the house? You, of all people, should have known he would attack you the day you became of age."

"The Dursleys kicked me out." Harry lied, or he rather liked to call it fibbing.

"On the same day?" Lupin raised his eyebrows.

"If you already know the answer, why are you asking?" Harry raved.

"There's no need to be getting so angry Harry dear." Mrs.Weasley said, "He's just looking out for you."

"What was I supposed to do, stay cooped up in that jail for ever? I had to get out for a bit."

"It could have cost you your life Harry." Lupin said gravely, "Promise me you won't do smoething foolish like that again."

"Fine. I won't. Can I go upstairs now?" Harry shot Lupin an unscathed glare. For some reason, his head was on fire from Lupin's comments. Why had he gotten so angry? Lupin and Harry were usually on good terms.

He slowly walked up the stairs, eyeing his arm. It was now covered with a white cloth which Harry knew was blood red inside. All of a sudden he became sleepy, and without greeting Ron and Hermione, he went right into the twins's room and collapsed on the bed.

…

Harry opened his eyes. The room was still streaked with light from the window. Clearly it was still day. Harry moved his body up from the bed, scratching his head, and stepped onto the floor.

After washing his face, Harry figured he should meet Ron and Hermione. He strolled over to Ron's room and opened the door. He wished he hadn't. In front of his eyes were Ron and Hermione locked together, arms all over each other, and lips immersed with each other. Ugh….

"Never mind!" Harry shouted, closed the door, and laughed. He knew that his two best friends would get together one day but he never knew he would find out by barging on their private moments.

As soon as he reached his room, he heard Hermione yell behind him, "Harry!"

They both showed up in the room their faces beet red and looking away embarrassingly.

"Aloha." Harry said, smirking.

"erm…sorry about that…" Hermione muttered, took a seat on the opposite bed, and Ron followed her.

"It's fine with me."

"Oh my…what happened to your arm, Harry?" Hermione scurried over to Harry's side and laid her fingers on the cloth.

"I got butchered."

"By what?' Ron raised his eyes.

"A sword, believe it or not."

"What?" Hermione jumped, taking her hand off of him and moving it to her face.

"Yeah. Do you know any spells to heal this?"

Hermione thought hard for a moment, staring at the wand, and said, "I…don't think so Harry. If only Madam Pomfrey was here. Is it bad?"

Harry nodded.

"How did it happen?" Ron asked.

"I was walking outside and a sword attacked me, although Tonks thinks that the person behind it was invisible."

"Strange…"

Hermione didn't say anything for a minute or two.

"What's up?" Ron inquired.

Hermione looked at him, as if she'd just woken up, "Hmm? Oh…I was just thinking of something I read before…"

"What's that?" said Harry.

"Maybe there was a purpose for using a sword. They could have used magic easily…I'm trying to remember…it was a while ago…"

"Well, think away."

Hermione seemed more worried than she should have been. Her eyes went down to his arm and then his face as if she was calculating something.

"What?"

"Nothing."

But obviously something very serious was going on or Hermione wouldn't have been looking at him as if he were dead.


End file.
